Time

The kids are gone (at least for a couple days.) We have 3/4 kids in college now (that's 3 of our own plus one, not 3/4ths of a child.)

"How's the empty nest?" people want to know. I'm not sure yet, because it's barely empty.

"What will you do with all the extra time?" they ask.

Good question. I frankly don't know the time to do a precise calculation of how much time over the last 22 years we've spent:

• sitting on soccer fields or in bleachers
  
• baking brownies, muffins, and quiches for school events, sporting events, social events
  
• reading and re-reading theme papers and - in the end - college essays
  
• talking about social life strains and debating the pros and cons of certain sleepover ideas
  
• reviewing vocabulary words, economic terms, historical dates, and scientific processes
  
• sitting in the waiting rooms of doctors, dentists, orthodontists, and physical therapists
  
• hanging out and discussing whether The Man in Black was truly a bad guy, the dialogue in Gilmore Girls was unnecessarily clever, the actor who played Golum deserved an Oscar nomination
  
• reviewing the day and praying prayers before bedtime.

It was a chunk of time, but it was all worth it.
What will I do with the new chunk of time I have on my hands? Options include:

1) Finish the book. (please God)

2) Take a nap.

3) Make college care packages. (more baking)

What I won't be doing is filling that extra time with work. We all know we can do this - fill every minute with what's left to do in the office/classroom/lab/store/restaurant. There will always be something. But I don't want to fill my time that way.

The parenting never ends of course. One of the phenomena on college campuses today is that everybody's walking around on the phone. My kids now call me at random times: walking to class, leaving the library, standing in line. It's a nice check-in, but I can't always answer because I'm probably in the middle of something on your average Tuesday morning or Wednesday night. But that's what texting is for.

In the meantime, we are all shifting the way we are spending our time. For one of our kids, there will be a 6 hour time difference. For others, there might be late night conversations after parties. We are very fortunate to have this time.

Painting by Dali.

Are We Teachable?

When TBC was playing soccer year-round and coaches set up conferences to tell us how she might improve, I remember one coach who identified her as "very teachable."

Me (in my head): I hope she's teachable. She's in the 7th grade.

The truth is that some of us aren't very teachable. Either we believe we already know what we need to know, or we are defensive that we didn't learn it earlier, or we don't want anyone to have power over us - even the power of wisdom and information.

HH and I now have lots of kids in college. They still seem to be quite teachable. But I'm finding that many of us are not, especially when it comes to theological and spiritual things.

• A head of staff recently told me that their new associate pastor is not very teachable. She came from seminary as a second career pastor and perhaps feels uncomfortable with a head of staff who is younger than he is. He has over a decade of professional experience in church ministry. She has lots of experience in her former profession and good sense people skills. But she refuses to take suggestions much less directives on how to improve her ministry skills.


• A pastor just lost her job because A Very Strong Committee in her congregation refused to let her be The Leader. She is not a bossy person. She does not insist on her own way. But she came with a great deal of experience in ministry as well as a wealth of information on new ways to do church and she wanted to lead the congregation into the 21st Century. The VSC liked the way they had done things for a while (like decades) and - although they insist that "they want to grow" - they don't want to grow enough to let go of ineffective ways and consider some new ways of being the church.
  
  
• A group of established members has no intention of learning anything new. They want the pastor to teach a Bible Study, but they will never attend. They want the pastor to lead book groups and theological discussions, but they don't attend. They are "beyond" Sunday School. The problem is that they have about a 10th grade theological education, if that.

It's That Time of Year when new classes begin in our congregations. We recruit and train teachers. We expect an educated clergy. But many of us are not teachable.

Any suggestions on how to gently convey that following Jesus involves life-long learning?

Can Anyone Claim a Day?

There were some lovely people in our morning worship service yesterday who had attended the Glenn Beck event the day before. They were clearly faithful, kind, willing to drive halfway across the country to express their hopes for our nation.

They shared the moment when their group faced Al Sharpton's group, and they expressed regret that the two groups did not talk, much less pray together. I just heard a tape of Sharpton who said, "They cannot have this day. This is our day."

Can it exclusively be anyone's day? Maybe God can claim this, but no one else.

August 28th would have been my mother's 77th birthday. But when MLK gave his I Have a Dream speech on her 30th birthday, nobody thought he had taken her day.

September 11 will always be September 11 for our nation. I baptized a child who was born on that day, and I remember her grandmother saying it was a shame she had to have such an infamous birthday.

I'm thrilled she was born on 9-11. The beautiful thing about God is that days can be redeemed. Another good way to redeem 9-11 if you live in the DC area is to attend this event to bring hope to Haiti.

I am grateful that Glenn Beck chose to speak from the lower steps and not from the high step where MLK stood. It was a respectful choice.

Can we begin to claim days for peace and love - even for our enemies. Our country is so divided. We need to claim these days for reconcilliation.

Image of the plaque on the top step of The Lincoln Memorial.

Snooki On the Bulletin Cover

As I talk with many people about "the 9-11 Mosque" - which is a misnomer in and of itself - I'm struck by how we see Muslims and am curious about how people see us Christians. At the risk of giving away my entire sermon premise for this Sunday, I saw this and my heart sunk a bit. Apparently many Europeans see Snooki as the predominant cultural representative for the United States. Great.

It got me thinking about how we represent Christianity and how Islam is represented by others.

What if we who follow Jesus were judged solely according to the way Ted Haggard, Bernard Law, and Ann Coulter - all professing Christians - live out their faith? So why do we judge all Muslims according to the way Mohamed Atta and Mohammed Omar live out theirs?

There are so many different kinds of Christians - from Billy Graham to Kathie Lee Gifford. I drew the line at putting Hitler on the cover of our bulletin this week - but how horrifying that he self-identified as a Christian. Nazi belt buckles said, "God with us" in German. How would we like to be judged by that offense?

I wrote a couple weeks ago that I wasn't so sure about the Cordoba Center in NYC. I'm feeling, now, like we definitely need to build it as a monument to the freedoms of our nation. How amazing that we will even let people erect a cultural center near the place where many who shared a version of their faith killed our (and their) loved ones. This is both a tribute to the 1st Amendment and to the concept of Christian grace.

The image is our bulletin cover for this Sunday.

Back to School Week: The Coolest Adults

Me (on the way home after a long Sunday morning with church): So who was the coolest adult today?

TBC: Probably EF. I think she could be my best friend.

Me (in my head): I'd be over the moon if EF was your best friend.

At the time of this conversation TBC was about 12 and EF was about 27.

My hope for our children's spiritual development as they were growing up was not only that they'd learn Bible stories and theological basics; I especially wanted them to have close relationships with adults beyond their family. I always wanted them to have someone they could go if - for any reason - they could not come to me and my husband with worries and questions. We called them The Coolest Adults.

Our congregation is blessed with many cool people in their 20s and 30s - but The Coolest Adult could also be 80 or 90 as well. Who is a cool adult?

• It's someone who takes congregational baptism vows seriously. When they promised "to uphold and support 'this child' in his/her life in Christ" on the day of the child's baptism, they didn't respond with a rote "yes." They meant it.


• It's someone who takes children seriously. They are not cute accessories who say funny things during The Children's Story. They are not "the future of the church." They are already the church.


• It's someone who lives out his/her faith authentically even when no one seems to be looking. My kids once witnessed an esteemed church leader spill a whole cup of coffee on the floor after worship, look both ways to see if anyone saw this happen, and then walk away without cleaning up his mess. Unbeknownst to him, my kids saw the whole thing and they've never forgotten it. It was hard for them to respect anything that guy did or said after that. Just because our kids are short and easily distracted doesn't mean they aren't paying attention.


• It's someone who cares enough to really know them. Adults tend to ask children the same questions over and over again: How old are you now? What grade are you in? What do you want to be when you grow up? But do we have genuine relationships with the children and youth in our congregations? Do we know that T loves Batman? Do we know that W is nervous about Middle School? Do we know that C just lost another tooth? Do we know that E has SATs next week?

It's about relationships. If we expect our children to be mentored in faith, they must have relationships with the mentors. We can't just pick anybody with a pulse to be their teacher. We must pick someone who cares about them and their relationship with God.

The common excuses for not wanting to mentor kids:

• My own faith is shaky. (Whose isn't on a given day?)


• I don't have all the answers (Give me a break)


• I'm too tired on Sunday mornings to get up for Sunday School for myself much less for kids. (One of our kids' best teachers was a 20-something who staggered in late many Sunday mornings and told them - generally - what he did the night before. It made him real. And hilarious.)


• I already put in my time as a teacher when my own kids were younger. (So you're saying it's all about you and your family and you don't really believe that whole Body of Christ thing?)


• I'm not good with children. It's not my gift. (Ok then.)

You will never be The Coolest Adult if you judge kids and expect them to be your own image of The Right Kind of Christian.

Our daughter told us - several years after this had been going on - than when she wore her soccer uniform to worship because she had a game immediately following, a woman always greeted her during the Passing of the Peace this way: I see you didn't have time to dress for church today. She said it sweetly and with a smile.

That woman was not A Cool Adult.

Do we really want our children to know God? Maybe that's the most basic Back-to-School question.

Image is Sunday School by Miki.

Beyond the Rolls

In the last week, I've been asked to

• visit a dying woman who who visited our congregation for worship once or twice last spring
• check on a young Muslim man I met through a church member who has health problems and came to me for support last winter
• counsel a former member who is embarrassed to tell her current pastor about marriage problems
• contact the grown child of a member whose own child is sick
• do premarital counseling for 3 couples who live here but are not getting married here, and their home pastors require counseling before the wedding

This is not an anonymous blog and I definitely want to reiterate that I do not mind serving these important requests if possible. But where do we draw the line in terms of time and boundaries?

Our deacons are taking up the slack for pastoral care to church members, and especially to homebound members. But - as our congregations are more fluid and constantly shifting - how do we offer responsible and healthy pastoral care? Maybe people don't want to "join churches" but they have spiritual/theological/pastoral needs that require our time and services.

Ann Landers and Dear Abby - the old (and now deceased) advice columnists - often ended their guidance by suggesting that readers "contact their local clergyman." I remember that my response to this was always:

1) "What about clergywomen?" and

2) Is she assuming all those who write her indeed have a pastor/priest/rabbi to contact or is she suggesting people contact a random church or synagogue for help?

Like many professions, every day is an exercise in juggling/time management. We need to work smart and do the tasks that we alone are trained to do first. Having said this, our ministers include those not trained in seminary but called to serve and our responsibilities involve equipping them. There are many ways to train lay leaders to do hospital visits and pray with the sick and troubled.

In fact, if we professional clergy insist on serving only official members we risk turning the church into a club with benefits a la American Express. We perpetuate an attitude of patronage which is terrible theology: when our congregations support the church financially, they are not paying the clergy so that the clergy will be their personal ministers; they are supporting ministry to the community. Remember The Great Commission.

So how do you clergy out there deal with pastoral care requests for those who are not regular members of your congregation? And parishioners, what are your expectations of your pastors? Do you encourage them to serve the wider community pastorally?

Graphic by Wordle.

The Changing Timetable of Adulthood

As we move 3 kids into dorms this weekend, I especially enjoyed this article from last weekend's NY Times Magazine about 20-somethings and their propensity for delaying adulthood. Actually this is not new phenomenon.

According to some sociologists noted in this article, there are 5 markers for adulthood:

• Completing School
• Leaving Home
• Becoming Financial Independent
• Marrying
• Having a Child

Obviously this is sorely dated.

I would be considered a late bloomer according to this table and my 20s ended several decades ago. Didn't complete school until I was 26 (or later if you count the last degree.) Didn't marry until I was 31. Didn't have a child until 32.

These days I rarely officiate at weddings for couples under 30 years old. Often they are closer to 40 - for first marriages. Many couples "begin their families" in their late 30s and early 40s. Maybe this is an urban thing or maybe not.

And as for financial independence, I'm not sure what that means anymore. Does it mean you're no longer covered under your parents' health insurance? That parents aren't contributing to graduate school tuition? That they don't give you their old car?

Is it even possible to offer stereotypes about 20-somethings? The Times article takes into account the emerging patterns for adult development in these times. And clearly patterns are different for GLBT people, young adults in developing nations, and young adults in other cultures.

Personally, I would love for couples to wait for marriage until after 30 - with a few exceptions. A 20 year old is not the same person at 25, but by our 30s most of us have a clearer sense of how we like our eggs.

People make foolish choices and act juvenile at every age. But should we parents encourage our children to meander? Are we helping them delay adulthood because we want to vicariously live through them (and we'd love to backpack in Asia for a year)?

All I know is this: as the mother of 3 in college as of this weekend, I want our kids to take it all in. I want them to travel, take courses that have nothing to do with their majors, have philosophical discussions late into the night. It's an enormous luxury in this economy. But economy eshonomy. I hope our kids will exit The Mighty Stress Vortex as often as possible.

As I kiss my kids good-bye this weekend, I want them on a track that changes the tone and culture of our society - that moves even farther from Mad Men and a little closer to the Kingdom of God. Is that too immature for a 50-something to hope for?

Photo of dorm move-in day.